I'd like to thank my editors for their friendship, for their eyes and for their selfless time to read through the submissions, make suggestions, glean from the writing what they thought best spoke to the heart. To my poetry editor-in-chief, Joan McCormick, I owe her a debt of gratitude for always pushing me and believing in Tryst.

My gratitude to Olga Grun, who translated Russian for this issue as well for previous and future issues. Oh, and I can't forget my sweet mom who's always thinking of me when she intuitively forwarded the one email with Irina Lasurnaya's breathtaking photo of a baby swan knowing that I would instantly fall in love! Also, I must thank Barbara Meister, patron saint of Tryst, for supporting me all these years, and for believing in my abilities that I might seek my own truest vision. Tryst is a culmination of all the dreams that make us whole. To our writers, poets, actors, readers, photographers...artists we thank you for eight wonderful years of devotion to the arts. Happy Anniversary!



I can hardly believe how fast time has flown since Mia first approached me online to read for her back in September /December 2004. Though I had been in the background reading hungrily for months before. But it was March 2005 I remember most clearly as being nearly all my own choices of poets' work by Cleopatra Mathis, Benjamin  Buchholz  and emerging  poet, Pietro Aman. All in their own way made it so easy for me to know that the gift I have is in my ability to read so much better than I can write. And I cried real tears went I saw the effort  Mia put into Tryst and, like all readers, I waited until it was finished to get the whole wham, bang, totally awesome first look at each issue. I felt truly humbled to have been a very small part in each  making.

I need to take this opportunity  to personally shout out my thanks  to each one of you, some of whom I was unable to deal with on an individual basis in this issue. Tryst may be smaller in content but I know its strength is in total quality, and that is due to the talented contributions given to us to share with our readers.

With much  appreciation,

Joan, Tryst Poetry Editor



Perhaps no person can be a poet, or can even enjoy poetry, without a certain unsoundness of mind.
T. Babington Macaulay

I'd like to say that I have a ritual for reading your poems that are sent to me as an editor for Tryst. That I set aside the same hour each day, line up my mug of tea and chocolate chip cookies, and read. That when the hour is up I'm satisfied and done until the next time. Same time, same place. But, of course, it isn't like that. It isn't that simple for me. I'll be vacuuming or chopping onions for soup, when I get a longing for a poem, a longing that makes me stop what I am doing, fire up my computer and search to see if a poem, maybe your poem, is waiting. And if I'm lucky, there it is. And if I'm very lucky there isn't one but four or five in my box.Then instead of finishing the soup that waits in the kitchen, I devour your words. I fill up with the poetry of love and longing, grief and disappointment, memory and mystery. I read them all, and when there are none left, that's when I finally sit back, satisfied.That's when I go back to whatever I was doing, thanking you for the excitement and intelligence you bring to Tryst and its readers, and for the sustenance that makes me eager to see your poems waiting for me day after day after day.



There is nothing more pleasurable than a short story that draws you quickly into its own world where you remain suspended – and not long afterwards you find yourself on the other side, saying, “that was good”.   You barely have time to wonder what is going to happen or not happen.  And at the end, you might sigh, or laugh, or cry or shake your head.  They have the power to move you.  Tryst continues our tradition of publishing fine short story selections from our contributors.   


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